


Come Home With Me

by bravebatgirl



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clubbing, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Mild Smut, Other, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, Zutara Month, Zutara Month 2020, and katara being a literal goddess, im just a sucker for dorky lover-boy zuko, this is so unbelieveably self-indulgent, yeah yeah come on in ya thirst-monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24422380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravebatgirl/pseuds/bravebatgirl
Summary: Zutara Month 2020: Day 29 (home) & Day 30 (without)There’s a girl dancing on the floor. Luminescent strobe lights illuminate her figure like a glowing blue sun. She’s wearing a white sleeveless button-down that shows off just a bit of cleavage, and some navy skinny jeans that are slightly ripped and cuffed at her ankles. Her wavy, chocolate hair is skewed out of its high ponytail. There’s sweat beading on her forehead and upper lip; her mascara is smudging under her electric-blue eyes. In other words, she’s a mess.She’s the most beautiful mess Zuko has ever laid eyes on.Zuko despises clubbing, but circumstance has him out with his sister and friends. He wants nothing more than to just go home and sleep before training in the morning. There's nothing that could entice him to stay except out of necessity... until she appears.~title and chapter names from Guy Sebastian's song~
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Mai/Ty Lee (Avatar)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 229
Collections: Zutara Month 2020





	1. Just for Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Zutara Month 2020: Part 2 (thanks covid)
> 
> i have a massive 4k word assignment due tomorrow, but it's zutara. come on. like i wasn't gonna procrastinate in the best way possible and write my babies.
> 
> This is a two-shot, and follows the days 29&30 prompts of 'home' and 'without'. 
> 
> this is just some honest to god self-indulgence cos 1) i love them 2) i adore them 3) good old 'meet while clubbing' cos i miss clubbing rn :( . 4) did i mention i love them? 5) MORE DORKY ZUKO BEING DOMESTIC AND SURPRISING ZUTARA WITH HIS ADORABLE GENTLEMAN DEMEANOUR

Zuko is God knows how many vodka and tequila shots in. His head is pounding in time with whatever generic club song is playing right now. The strobe lights in his periphery are making spots flip across his vision, and he groans, letting his head fall onto the moist countertop. He decidedly ignores the questioning probe of the bartender, instead letting himself sink further into the void.

Zuko hates clubbing. Zuko wants to get the fuck out of here and go the fuck home.

_If he hates clubbing so much, why the hell is he at Outlaws Only, the most notorious rage-fest centre in the Ba Sing Se?_

Great question.

See, his sister is the polar opposite -- she adores getting wasted before arriving at the stretch of clubs, throwing up in the nasty bathrooms before scrambling toward the dance-floor. That's where she then proceeds to makeout with at least ten desperate strangers. It's her 21st tonight, and since her friendship group is limited to her brother, his ex, and his ex's current girlfriend, they're all there by obligation.

Well, it feels like obligation to Zuko. To Mai and Ty Lee, it's just an excuse for them to be all over each other in public every five seconds.

Knowing he's in danger of being thrown out for over-intoxication (it's not that, though. He's just really fucking tired, okay?), he begrudgingly lifts his head, grunting an acknowledgement to the bartender. Then, he swivels on the stool. If he's going to be stuck babysitting, he may as well allow the blinding neon lights keep him from passing out. So, he does, propping his forearms behind him and leaning back in his seat.

His hazy eyes follow the mass of silhouettes before them, bathed in magenta and cerulean and bright lime green. Golden eyes blink slowly as the music reverberates through his skull.

“Zuzu~!” an all too familiar voice calls.

He refrains from groaning as Azula swims into view, a ridiculous dopey grin on her face as she hangs off the shoulder of some girl. Said girl has her hand firmly on his sister’s ass. He sucks in a deep, stabilising breath.

“How’re y’feeling, La?”, he asks. No, his voice does not slur, thank you very much.

“So fuckin’ ama _ziiiiing_.” She says, giggling as she swings side to side. She lunges for the other girl’s jaw and smacks a sloppy kiss on the corner of her mouth. It’s honestly the most disconcerting sight in existence, in Zuko’s opinion. “You should come _dance_ , Dum-dum. Me an’ um…” she scrunches her face in concentration before exclaiming, “Max’xin! Yeah, come dance with Max’xin and me. You’re being such a loser, righ’ now.”

“’m right, thanks.”

“ _Dum-duuuuum.”_

“La, jus’ go dance with y’r new girlfriend.” He rolls his eyes, turning his head away to look back into the crowd. “I’m good… here…”

It’s probably the alcohol messing with his rationale right now, along with his overwhelming desire to be anywhere but talking to his intoxicated and horny sister, but he’s honestly entranced. Captivated. Mesmerised like it’s a goddamn siren call.

There’s a girl dancing on the floor. Luminescent strobe lights illuminate her figure like a glowing blue sun. She’s wearing a white sleeveless button-down that shows off just a bit of cleavage, and some navy skinny jeans that are slightly ripped and cuffed at her ankles. Her wavy, chocolate hair is skewed out of its high ponytail. There’s sweat beading on her forehead and upper lip; her mascara is smudging under her electric-blue eyes. In other words, she’s a mess.

She’s the most beautiful mess Zuko has ever laid eyes on.

Also, he’s able to pick up such minute details because he’s now nearly square in front of her, somehow. Alcohol is weird.

In that moment, she seems to sense his presence, and looks up from her world of ecstasy straight into his eyes.

Oh, Jesus Christ, he was not prepared for that at all. That’s destabilising as shit. Zuko needs to sit down and re-evaluate every single life choice he’s made up till this moment, because he’s currently in the sights of a goddess among mortals and his tongue has apparently ceased all mobility. He knows he’s staring at her like an absolute fool; a complete dork with the music blaring around them and hot bodies bumping into them left, right and centre. He knows he needs to say something, or he’ll just die as a puddle of embarrassed goo on the liquor-and-sweat covered floor.

Thankfully, this esteemed heavenly beauty seems to realise his plight and, with a smile that could rival the sun, says, “Hey there. How’s your night going?”

_‘Oh, my fucking God, she even sounds like an angel. That’s it, I’ve ascended. I’m dead and I’m in heaven.’_

Her eyes widen, and then, inexplicably, she giggles, caramel cheeks flushing umber. It’s only then that Zuko realises he just _said that out loud._

The realisation is more sobering than any glass of water.

“I-I… I mean, um… yeah pretty good”, he manages out, scratching at the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in the sweaty clumps of hair. He needs to start tying it back. “I mean, kinda shit before but… looking pretty good now.”

“Oh?” her voice lilts up with the quirk of her brow.

Oh no, she’s being flirty too. Zuko can’t handle this. It’s too much on his fragile heart.

She glances down, and Zuko doesn’t want to imagine she’s checking him out but _holy fuck she’s checking him out._ Seemingly satisfied (again, _holy fuck)_ , she tilts her chin up at him. “Getting a bit presumptuous, aren’t we?”

“It’s only presumptuous if you want it to be”, he quips back without a second thought, some sudden confidence surfacing in the face of a challenge. His eyes are hooded as he stands a good head over her. “It can be foresight, if you’d rather.”

“Hm.” She fixes him with a coy look, holding out her hand to him as she starts backing into the throng of people. “Come dance with me and find out?”

Zuko’s heart hitches for only a second before he grins, taking her proffering with a buzzing anticipation. His hand slots over hers and not a second later, she’s dragging him through the masses and overwhelming bass, chuckling softly all the way. They find a slight gap amongst the massive flood of people, and the girl pulls him toward her swaying figure, directing his hand to her hips as she runs her own up the length of his half-exposed arms. Her fingers leave a trail of blazing heat in their wake before locking casually behind his neck. He exhales a low, long breath from the sensation, and watches as a light shiver courses over the girl before him.

They sway in time with the repetitive, way-too-fast music, laughing in bursts when someone accidently bumps into them or they accidently bump into someone else. They share in small bouts of alcohol-aided small talk, teasing lightly and complimenting with ease when appropriate. Time pulls them closer, giving Zuko the confidence he needs to release his firmly clasped hands and allow them to settle on the small of her back instead. He’s acutely aware of the way hers have a similar thought process, and soon, slim fingers are tangling in those previously cumbersome locks of hair, tugging lightly as she mindlessly lets them wander. Song after song passes, and soon a remix of an older song comes on. It’s vastly different to the original, but it’s one that Zuko actually recognises, in amongst the other random ones.

_‘There’s somethin’ bout this… let’s keep it movin’… And if it’s good let’s just get something cookin’…’_

So, it appears, does the girl in his arms. “ _Cause I really wanna rock you…”_ she sings under her breath, eyes slowly dragging up his torso to meet his own, “ _I’m feelin’ some connection to the things you do..._ ”

Despite his equally cool and collected flirtations, Zuko is about to suffer an aneurysm, he swears.

Taking a moment to still his rapidly beating and asphyxiated heart, he leans in, breathing just loud enough for her to hear, “What’s your name?”

When he pulls away, she’s looking at him with a slight curl to her lip. She tugs slightly harder than normal on his hair, and he takes the prompt to lean down again for her. Shivers course down every nerve in his body as she whispers, lips brushing against his ear, “Katara. What’s yours?”

“Zuko”, he answers before pulling back just far enough to see her brilliant, insane eyes. Dark lashes flutter as she slowly blinks, orbs of crystal-clear water taking up every possible expense of his attention. Suddenly, he’s very, very glad he didn’t stay home tonight.

“Nice to meet you, Zuko.”


	2. Maybe for Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 30: without

The first thing Katara becomes painfully aware of is the way her head is absolutely pulsating. The next thing is that her brain is thrumming against her skull in time with her godforsaken alarm clock. Groaning, she reaches across the mattress, fumbling around until she finds it. Carefully picking it up in her hand, she pegs it at the nearest wall with every bit of hungover strength she has.

Ugh… this is why she tells the others to drink water throughout the night.

She quickly realises that sleep is not going to come back to her. She whimpers in utter, tormented protest. In this realisation, she rolls over, splaying every limb across the expanse of her bed.

Okay, time to recap: what actually happened last night?

She had just finished her latest round of university exams, and had decided to treat herself and go out with her friends for a club-sesh. Biomedical science was taxing and exhausting degree on any poor souls who wished to become physicians, but an entirely necessary one. It had been her, Sokka and Suki on the town – Aang and Toph were, of course, still too young, and had resolved to go out for Ben & Jerry’s instead.

There hadn’t been anything particularly spectacular about the majority of the night; Sokka had started a dance circle and forced both his sister and girlfriend into it, but that was nothing new. At one point, Sokka and Suki had reached their horny-drunk phase and, after checking Katara would be okay on her own, excused themselves and headed back home for… yeah.

It had been a few minutes after the fact when he had shown up.

Katara’s eyes fly open. With the sudden image of the handsome stranger in her head, the memories come flooding back.

He’d walked up, stared at her for a little bit (much to Katara’s great amusement), adorably stuttered his way through conversation. They had danced, laughed, chatted, and flirted for the next couple of bleeding hours. Then, she had made some joke, he had smiled at her, and some unsanctified spirits above possessed her. And she kissed him.

Rolling her tongue between her teeth, she could still taste the tequila and cinnamon.

They had not made out all that long before he pulled away, looking at her with molten gold eyes, and Katara fucking evaporated when he said in a low, husky tone, “Wanna get out of here?”

Katara knows she should be embarrassed of the way she grabbed his hand, planted one last firm and fast kiss in his lips and said with the confidence of a dominatrix, “Absolutely. I know just the place.” But she’s not.

Also, she remembers, that perfect place had been her apartment. Holy shit.

Katara isn’t the type of girl to just take people home. Call her old-fashioned that way. She likes to be wooed, to be convinced of a person’s character, to have known them a generous amount of time before even kissing someone.

Last night, she threw all of that out the window. _All the way_ out the window.

She slaps her hands over her eyes, cheeks going crimson as she remembers what happened after they stumbled through her door in the wee hours of the early morning. Fervid hands running over each other as they rushed to remove clothing. Barely making it through the door to her bedroom before clasping her mouth to the column of his throat. The way he’d quietly asked with searching eyes, “Are you sure?”. The way his careful words sent a thrill across her nerves, blood spiking as she released a soft moan, slighting ripping her blouse as she hastily removed it. The way he had dared to ask one more time as he hovered over her, dark hair falling across luminescent eyes. The way he then proceeded to slowly unravel her, leaving her gasping, slick with sweat, quietly begging as he swallowed her moans with his mouth. The way he had softly groaned as she pulled at those raven locks she was already endeared to. The way every part of her felt like it was lit aflame, and she wouldn’t be put out until he turned her to a roaring inferno.

The way it had been the absolute best sex of her life.

A hand trailed slowly to her lips, touching them gingerly and tentatively. They were still kiss-swollen.

Suddenly, her brows furrow. If she remembers correctly – and she does. Following that taste of nirvana, she was acutely aware of every little thing he did – Zuko had then proceeded to fall asleep beside her. It was only when she picked up on his soft snores that she felt the warm pressure of his beautiful hands on her bare side. Katara had soon followed, a quiet smile blossoming on her face. And yet now…

Now she is most definitely alone in her bed.

She releases a soft sigh, draping an arm over her forehead as she stares up at the ceiling. She thought they hit it off last night, had some rare innate chemistry. She had some silent idea that perhaps it hadn’t just been a one-night-stand. Seems she had been mistaken.

Oh well, it had been a nice dream, at least.

Well, there’s no point in spending the day wallowing. She’s awake, she’s aware, she might as well be productive and get shit done. There’s only so long before the next round of assessment will be due.

With a long-suffering sigh, she swings her legs over the side of the bed and rises to a sitting position, wincing all the way. Christ, she needs a paracetamol. And a whole jug of water.

Her eyes flicker to where she hopes she placed her phone on charge last night and her brows lift, eyes widening as they blink. There’s a glass of crystal-clear water sitting on her bedside table, condensation dripping down the sides of it. Right beside it, there’s two small white tablets, presented to her like a million dollars.

… Katara’s smart, but she is _never_ this prepared. Her eyes narrow as she swallows the pills with a gulp, letting the cool water clear her head a fraction. _Weird…_

It’s then that she looks around the small area of her room. The curtains were thankfully drawn shut before she went out last night, but there’s a trickle of light leaking through and dancing across the carpet. The movement draws her eyes down, and she notes that while her clothes lay haphazardly across the floor, Zuko’s do not. His shoes, however, do.

_Double weird…_

She stands, picking up her clothes as she passes them and tossing them onto the bed. She then walks toward the closet, pulling it open to grab the first thing she sees. It happens to be one of her oversized t-shirts that she wears around the apartment when she can’t be fucked to put in any effort. It’s lilac, with the words ‘ladies don’t start fights, but they can finish them’, with the little girl kitten from Aristocats pictured pouting beneath it. It was Sokka’s idea of a birthday present for her 20th.

She pulls it on, ripping her messy hair from beneath the fabric. Stretching and yawning once, she turns toward the door, rubbing her bleary eyes as she pulls it open.

What awaits her makes her pull up short.

Standing in the kitchen, humming indistinctly with his eyes easy and mouth relaxed, in his clothes from last night, with the most _fantastic_ bed-hair in existence, is Zuko. And he’s making goddamn scrambled eggs.

Beside him, the kettle reaches a boil, singing as it crescendos. Katara watches, mesmerised as he gently places down the frying pan, carefully opens each cupboard, and then finally pulls two mugs down from a top shelf. He takes out some ginger already cut up on the countertop and adds it into two separate strainers, tossing in some sliced-up lemon as well. Katara blinks as he then picks up the plate beside it, then leans over to the frying pan and transfers the eggs with ease. Taking a moment to find the cutlery drawer, he grabs a fork, places it on the side of the plate and turns, a soft smile on his face.

It drops as soon as he sees her.

“Katara—” he begins, wide golden eyes flashing between the woman before him and the food in his hands. His cheeks are turning a pretty rouge, and Katara would gush in endearment if she wasn’t so frozen. “Good morning.”

“Morning”, she mutters back, blue eyes fixated on his figure.

His own dart away from hers, the rouge spreading across to his ears. “U-um, I-I wasn’t… I thought… last night you were pretty drunk— I mean quite, not pretty— though of _course_ you’re pretty— b-but anyway—”

“Zuko… were you trying to make breakfast in bed for me?” she asks, stepping toward the tomato-red man with a small smile, eyes flickering between his.

He seems to consider her a moment longer, brows pinching over his expression, before releasing a soft sigh, presenting the plate and mug to her with a slight bow of his head. “I know most people love grease and McDonald’s as a hangover cure, but my uncle swears by scrambled eggs, tofu, and ginger and lemon tea. ‘ _It is not a remedy of any kind without tea, Zuko’._ I couldn’t find tofu but… hope this helps your head.” At her silence, he cringes slightly. “You _were_ pretty gone at one point last night, and I thought you’d probably wake up feeling a little worse for wear… What?”

She can’t help it – she’s grinning up at him like an idiot. She steps toward him, carefully prying the offering out of his heads and placing it on the dining table beside her. Once it is down, she faces him, looking at him with every bit of adoration she feels. His eyes meet hers, small suns glowing in the morning light, swimming with apprehensive hope. She beams up at him, standing on her toes and pressing her hands to his broad chest as she leans up and presses soft lips to his cheek. As she pulls away, she can feel his face rise in a fervent blush, and she swears he’s about to catch on fire.

At that thought, she chuckles softly. “This is about the nicest and most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me as a hangover cure. Thank you.”

Slowly, the shock melts from his face, and his lips quirk up. “It’s okay… I wanted to do it.”

Her face is hurting with how much she’s smiling. She bites her lip in an effort to quieten the ecstatic thrill coursing through her body. It does absolutely nothing of the sort.

She reaches for his hand, not lost on how reminiscent it is of last night – yet, how also entirely new and uncharted it is. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to finish all those eggs. Care to join me?”

It’s a simple invitation – almost an obligatory one, really – but there’s an undercurrent of significance to her words. Like it just so much more she’s asking to share with him than just a plate of scrambled eggs.

To her quiet euphoria, he smiles. Not one of those quiet, shy and uncertain ones he directed to her throughout the night and into the early morning. This one is broad, all-encompassing, white teeth gleaming as the grin reaches his eyes. It’s absolutely dazzling.

Without another note of hesitation, he takes her hand, slotting his large, fair one over the top of her slim, dark one. “I’d love to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhh this was such a joy to write!! im such a S U C K E R for domestic fluff. zuko surprising katara with his household skills is one of the best tropes, don't even @ me on this  
> also, i want katara's oversized t-shirt now. 
> 
> hope you guys enjoyed reading!!


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